


What Price Dilithium?

by ElenaCee



Series: The Consultant [6]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Augment biology, Canon-Typical Violence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-08 03:50:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4289706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElenaCee/pseuds/ElenaCee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Federation needs dilithium. Jim Kirk is sent to a primitive world to secure mining rights. Khan comes with, because no one will say no to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Finished! This story was a bitch to write because it didn't let me know what it wanted to be until chapter 4. Maybe I should stick to less plotty things in the future, lol.
> 
> Warning for gore and (temporary) dismemberment in chapter 3.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who left kudos or comments on the works in this series, and its accompanying Slices of Life series. You guys keep me going. <3

_Present_

 

"I want not whatever precious metals you may offer," the nobleman said. "There is but one thing I want. I want your man."

Jim felt his face solidify into an expression of adamantine refusal even as Khan, seated next to him, gave a soft snort of amusement. Jim leaned forward on his wooden chair as if to shield Khan in an automatic if patently ridiculous response. "Well," he said with all the cockiness that came so naturally to him. "You can't have him."

The nobleman looked at him from across the huge ornate table, unimpressed. "I am Achigon, Deucal of these lands. I get whatever I want."

Jim had no reason to doubt him. He knew the type. A conqueror, a ruler, ruthless and intimidating. Not unlike the man Jim was currently trying to keep from the grasp of the guy. This, he mused, was probably half the reason why Achigon wanted Khan: He recognized a kindred spirit.

Plus, the man had seen Khan fight. No one who had witnessed the Augment in battle could resist his allure, as Jim could attest.

"No," he said, simply. "Not this time."

Achigon ignored Jim, looking past him at Khan. "I shall address you directly, then. You must know that the man you follow is not fit to command you. You, however, are fit to command armies. I shall give you those armies, and you will lead them to victory and these lands to peace under my rule. What say you?"

Khan looked at Achigon, unmoving.

Jim knew that the Augment had to be tempted. This, according to his own words, was the very thing he had been created for - leading warring nations to peace. Jim felt his heart sink. Khan was bound to say yes. He was going to stay here, on this primitive world, finally fulfilling his true calling, while Jim would have to leave him here and return to the stars, alone again.

After all, he had no hold over Khan except whatever hold the Augment granted him.

 

* * *

 

_Ten hours ago_

 

The mattress next to Jim was empty when he woke up. A questing hand found the soft surface cool, so, Khan must have left quite a while ago.

Jim was disappointed that there would be no sleepy cuddles this time, but he'd be lying if he said he was surprised. The Augment only needed two or, at most, three hours of sleep, and there were certainly more productive ways for him to spend his time awake than lying next to Jim, waiting for the inferior human to finally wake up.

Besides, ever since the incident with the Section 31 sleeper agent, Khan had been restless, rarely settling down anywhere for longer than an hour before leaving the lab, the observation deck, the gym area, wherever he happened to be, for somewhere else.  It almost seemed as if he felt he needed to present a moving target; as if he no longer felt safe staying in one place for too long.

So far, Jim's bed had been exempt from this development, but apparently not anymore.

"I harbor no definite suspicion against anyone specifically," Khan had said when Jim asked him about it. "I made certain that the ship is free of Section 31 presence. But once a danger is identified, it can be dealt with. It's the unknown danger that poses the threat."

Jim couldn't blame him. After all, they hadn't seen the sleeper agent thing coming, either. Khan clearly had been spooked by almost getting killed just when he'd begun to let his guard down, and all Jim could do was hope he'd recover from this blow to his trust eventually.

True to the word he had never quite given him, Jim didn't check on Khan's whereabouts. Even though the Augment's trust in the crew might have been shaken, Jim's trust in Khan had not. He was as certain as he'd ever been that his ship and his crew were Khan's home now, and therefore safe from him. It was only a matter of time before the Augment would settle down again, and meanwhile, Jim would not impede him, gladly letting him roam his ship for as long as he needed to keep moving. He tried not to dwell too much on any of it as he went on to do his own thing, patiently waiting for Khan to turn up again in his own good time.

That time turned out to be at the meeting convened in the briefing room concerning Jim's latest orders. Khan walked in, casting a brief, searching glance at those present, and took his seat. Jim was saddened to note that the Augment's movements had the same wary economy and control that they had displayed when he had first been brought aboard as a prisoner, more than a year ago.

As before, nobody commented. Everyone was well aware that only time and patience could fix this.

"Right," Jim opened the briefing. "New orders from Starfleet Command. We're approaching Zeta Herculis IV, a Class M planet rich in dilithium deposits. We're ordered to secure mining rights."

He ordered the computer to play a file of video footage. "This was recorded by a recon drone. The deposits are highlighted; as you can see, they are limited to one continent only. That continent is inhabited by humanoids whose level of development roughly corresponds to Earth Middle Ages."

"So," Scotty interjected, "no electricity, no steam power, no gun powder, no crude oil derivatives."

"Exactly."

"The usual risk of violating the Prime Directive applies, then," Spock commented.

"Exactly," Jim said again. "They look quite human. In fact, there are only minor physiological variations between humans and the Herculeans, so we should be able to infiltrate them without any trouble. We'll pose as emissaries from another part of their world." He rubbed his hands together. "Costumes and playacting. My favorite."

"Well, I don't like it," Bones grumbled, predictably. "You won't be able to take any tech with you, not even an automatic lighter. That means you'll beam down with no weapons and no communication with the ship. How's that supposed to work? Locator implants and a beam-up schedule? Risky, if someone happens to see the party getting dematerialized. Not to mention that whole 'violating some obscure code of conduct and getting executed for it' thing that usually happens at these kinds of mission."

"Exactly," Jim said, for the third time. "Which is why I'm not risking a large landing party beaming down. The more people, the greater the risk of somebody taking a wrong step. As the one authorized to negotiate for mining rights, I'll be on the team, of course -"

"… Accompanied by me." Khan, silent until now, spoke up quietly but in a way that brooked no argument.

Jim opened his mouth to object about Khan having no training with first contact missions, but he let the air leave his lungs unused. This arrangement between them worked because he never gave Khan orders he could not reasonably expect him to follow. And ordering Khan to stay on the ship while Jim sallied forth into danger would be one such order. That was the drawback of being considered family by an Augment.

"A two-person away team?" Bones objected, when Jim remained silent.

Khan looked at him, moving only his head while the rest of his body remained still. "Two is ample if one is an Augment, especially in so primitive an environment."

"Not disputing that," the doctor said. "I'm just saying, at the end of the day, you'll only have two pairs of eyes and hands between you, no matter how augmented one pair of them might be."

"My point still stands."

Bones spread his hands. "Okay, fine. But even Augments can't yell loudly enough to be heard from orbit in case things get dicey. Which they will."

"We'll use an in-ear communicator."

Scotty raised a hand. "Uh, you are aware that the sheer wattage required for a comm unit to reach orbit would mean you getting your brain fried no matter how well it's shielded, right?"

"Not mine," Khan stated calmly, leveling his gaze at the engineer, again only moving his head. "I agree it's too damaging for a normal human. Which is why we'll only take one communicator."

Scotty grimaced. "Ah dinna like it."

"Let's face it," Jim said, "however many comm units we take, if I have Mr. Singh by my side, it's basically the same thing as taking along an entire security squad and a boatload of offensive weaponry. We'll be fine."

Bones winced. "Jim, I really, really wish you hadn't said that last bit."

 

* * *

 

_Three hours ago_

 

They had chosen for their beam-down site the vicinity of the largest city on the continent in question. The ship's anthropologists had provided an exhaustive briefing; ship's replicators had provided the required attire; the universal translators would provide communication with the natives; Khan would provide the required backup while Jim's wit and charm would procure the mining rights for the Federation. They'd be back onboard in time for supper. Or, at least, that was the plan.

The shady glen that materialized around Jim looked straight out of a fairy tale. He smiled, letting his head fall back and turning a slow circle to take it all in. Warm sunlight, lush vegetation, clean air, unspoiled nature. "Ah," he said, breathing deeply. "This is what air is supposed to smell like."

Khan, next to him, obligingly sniffed the air. "Wood smoke," he stated, seemingly unaffected by all the beauty that surrounded them.

With an amused smile, Jim let him get in this dig at the normal human's numb nose. And why not? Even with this information, Jim still couldn't smell the smoke, so it was totally justified.

Khan, meanwhile, raised a hand to his left ear to take care of ship's business. "Singh to Enterprise. We have safely arrived on the planet's surface. At present, all is clear. Will proceed towards the town now. Mark these coordinates for retrieval, in case we lose communications." He waited for confirmation, then signed off and turned to Jim, gathering his traveling cloak. "Shall we?"

Jim grinned, gladly letting him order Jim's crew around. He had long since learned that indulging Khan in small ways tended to put the Augment in a good mood, and God knew the man needed some of that.

They began to walk. Jim took a - totally unprofessional - moment to appreciate the way the tights Khan wore hugged his legs as the Augment automatically took point, his strides both light-footed and purposeful. Jim wondered whether Khan felt as ridiculous in his native clothing as Jim did. He certainly didn't look it, his usual dignified movements unaltered.

As they left the glen a few minutes later, a broad vista of fields with the backdrop of a medieval town opened up before them.

Khan stopped for a brief look around. "It's a miracle that none of the spacefaring species have conquered this place yet." He nodded towards the town. "Look at it, note its primitive defenses. A single man, armed with a medium-sized phaser cannon, could just walk in there and annex this town, and from there, the whole planet."

By now, Jim was familiar with Khan's way of thinking. He smiled fondly. "Here's an idea: Try looking at things less from a warlord's point of view, and more like, say, a real estate agent. Like, 'look at all this clear space, ripe for urban development'. Or, how about like a travel agent? 'Come visit Zeta Herculis IV for a step back in time - for those who are tired of modern technology.'"

Khan regarded him with a level gaze, but apparently was not averse to joining the game. "'Epidemiologists, test your new and exciting plagues in an unspoiled environment, complete with humanoid test subjects.'"

Jim shook his head, mock-scowling. "You're not getting the hang of this. It's supposed to be sending a positive message."

"It is positive - for the epidemiologists. Do you have any idea how hard it is for them to do field testing on their new creations? Besides, how is contaminating this area with new buildings or tourists sending a positive message?"

It was good to see the Augment like this again; relaxed, almost joking in that admittedly odd way he had. Maybe he was beginning to put the sleeper agent thing behind him after all. Or maybe it was the absence of everyone else that calmed him; after all, Jim's presence had never put Khan on alert since they had taken him aboard.

Jim kept his mock-scowl firmly in place. "It's still better than annexing this town."

They had started walking towards the town in question. "Ah," Khan said, "but maybe a good annexing is what these people need; something to give them a push towards better, more fulfilling lives. The Middle Ages, on Earth, were times of great strife, sickness, countless wars, prejudice, superstition, and general scientific and cultural stagnation that lasted for centuries. If this planet is any similar, they might even benefit from a benevolent dictator with just a bit of a head start in knowledge that might help with all of that."

"Someone like you?" Jim said, amused at the choice of Khan's words. 'A good annexing', indeed.

"Of course. Someone like me would be preferable to, say, a Klingon or Romulan warlord."

Jim could not really dispute that. At the same time, he couldn't help wondering how serious Khan was. Was 'a good annexing' really something he would do, given the chance? Was this all he saw when he looked at this picturesque place - something to conquer, to rule over?

He never got the chance to ask, because at that moment, Khan stopped in his tracks. "We've got company."

Jim looked around and, as half-expected, couldn't see anything.

Next thing he knew, a short, thick arrow embedded itself in the ground next to him.

"Take cover," Khan said curtly.

When Jim hesitated a split second too long, the Augment tackled him to the ground, covering him with his body, while around them, more projectiles buried themselves with soft 'plops' in the earthy ground. As soon as the attack ceased, Khan was off with a terse "Stay down".

 _Well, to hell with that._ Rolling towards the trunk of a fairly impressive tree-like thing, Jim got up on hands and knees to watch, because no way was he going to miss this.

They were surrounded by about twenty or thirty armed men who had apparently lain in ambush. Metal from bladed weapons glinted in the sunlight; colorful clothes with sigils on them were in evidence. The projectiles had been fired by a row of marksmen that had taken position behind another row of men armed with blades. Jim knew enough about medieval warfare to be aware that this was a standard battle configuration - one row of melee fighters protecting the marksmen who would take down the enemy from a position of relative safety.

But this tried-and-true tactics had never encountered an Augment before. It took Khan about two seconds to reach the row of fighters protecting the shooters who were busy reloading their crossbows. They didn't stand a chance. Khan fighting was a thing of terrible beauty; economical, deadly, and strangely elegant. Not a movement wasted. Precise turns, short, hart jabs, long leaps. Another two seconds was all he needed to relieve two of the fighters of their weapons, and then Khan was back in front of Jim, now armed with a sword in each hand.

Responding to a terse order, the fighters broke formation and attacked. Khan easily held them at bay, fighting as if he'd wielded these primitive weapons all his life, and managing to keep the fighters back and away from Jim without any apparent strain.

Jim was convinced that this would have gone on for a while, and that eventually, Khan would have subdued them all, never mind that they were outnumbered maybe ten or twenty to one, if it hadn't been for a man on horseback yelling, "Cease!"

The attackers froze and pulled back, leaving Khan in a semicircle of dropped opponents, covered in blood that wasn't his. Jim, behind him, with his back still against the tree, could hear the Augment growling softly as Khan fought to subdue his battle rage.

"Fools!" the rider went on. "Can you not see that these are not Deucal Drabtur's men? They wear not his sigils."

The fighters milled about in confusion while the horseman approached. "I am Deucal Acheron. Who are you, and on whose authority do you trespass upon my lands?"

 _Showtime_. Jim stepped in front of Khan, who had regained his cool and lowered his captured swords. "I am, uh, Senescal Kirk, from a land beyond the seas. I have come to negotiate with your country on behalf of my Deucal, who is interested in something your lands have that we want."

The man who had called himself Acheron sneered. "There is nothing beyond the sea but monsters, but, by all means, tell me what your Deucal would ask of me."

JIm could see already that this was going to be difficult, but, thanks to the ship's anthropologists, he was prepared. "There are rocks scattered in the ground of these lands that would have no value to you. They hold an ore, brittle, not suitable for weapons or plows, and yet my Deucal is prepared to offer valuable metals in return for mining rights."

Dark eyes met his in a calculating gaze that told Jim that it would be a mistake to underestimate this man. Finally, Acheron nodded. "We should discuss this in a more hospitable place."

 

* * *

 

_One hour ago_

 

The town was just as picturesque from the inside as it had been from the outside, even though definite signs of squalor were present. The houses were made of wood and, for the most part, in varying degrees of disrepair, and yet the street in front of each house was swept clean, and there were flowers on the windowsills. A proud town, if a struggling one.

Jim tried not to do too much rubbernecking, though, since he, in his role as 'Senescal Kirk', was supposed to hail from a similar environment. Khan, of course, only spared his surroundings the glances necessary for whatever tactical assessments the Augment habitually did, its quaint beauty apparently lost on him.

A while later, they were all seated at a large table in a cavernous hall inside the only stone building in town, where no doubt Acheron did his governing.

"Tell me, Kirk," Acheron said as if they had not stopped talking at all, "if this ore you speak of is unsuitable for forging, why would you want it? What is it your Deucal would do with it?"

While Jim cast about for something to reply that would not include the words 'energy' or 'propulsion', Khan cut in.

"Who knows what our alchemists want with it," he said, casually. "They are very excited, that is all anyone cares about."

Jim nodded, grateful for the cue. "Exactly. Some alchemical... thingy. Anyway, we're prepared to pay you in gold. For each pound of the ore, you will receive a pound of gold. Fair and square."

Jim was subjected to a searching stare. It elicited a curious sense of déjà vu.

Then Acheron transferred his gaze to Khan, and Jim could practically see the idea form in the alien ruler's mind. "As you probably know, we are at war. Deucal Drabtur has proven resistant to my diplomatic efforts. Unfortunately, he holds the greater number of knights, and his fortresses hold superior positions. Help me win this war, Kirk, and I will give you all the rocks you may want."

"What makes you think that I have the means to help you win a war?" Jim asked, just before his brain caught up with his mouth.

Again, Acheron looked at Khan. Then he smiled. "Your man single-handedly held my men at bay, with no protection and with swords that are clearly too light for him, yet there is not a scratch upon him, and he was barely winded. Armored and with proper blades, he would be unstoppable. His fighting betrayed great knowledge of tactics. Any army under his command would excel on the battlefield."

 _You got that right_ , Jim thought, heart sinking. He knew exactly what would happen next.

 

* * *

 

_Present_

 

A full minute had passed, and still, Khan had not said anything. Throwing the Augment a sidelong glance, Jim could see him sit straight and motionless, his gaze fixed on Acheron, eyes slitted, face expressionless.

 _He's going to say yes,_ Jim thought, cold and shattered inside. _I'm going to lose him._

Acheron's patience, clearly not ample to begin with, wore out. "Well?"

Khan returned the nobleman's gaze evenly. "I refuse."

Jim's heart started beating again. His breathing resumed. His world had not ended.

For a moment, Acheron looked at the Augment in evident incomprehension. It was clear that nobody had ever said no to his face before. "What did you say?"

Khan lowered his head, peering at Acheron from underneath his dark brows. "I won't be an instrument for your tyranny, Deucal," he said, biting off each word with his peculiar diction. "You claim to want peace, but I have known men like you. Defeating your enemy won't be enough for you. You would be bored during peacetime, and the next war is only a perceived insult away. War, if it's unavoidable, can only ever be a necessary evil on the way to lasting peace, not a raison d'être. But that is something you will never grasp."

The Deucal stared at him, brows contracting into an enormous scowl. "You dare…!"

 _Well_ , Jim thought, _so much for the mining rights._

Acheron, however, surprised him. Turning to Jim, the Deucal said heatedly, "I demand that you surrender this man into my employ, Kirk, and you can have all the stones you want."

Jim smiled. "Sorry, Deucal. I can't do that. He's not mine to surrender. Besides, I agree with him."

There was a pause. Acheron's brows drew further together even as Khan's hand touched Jim's in warning.

"Well," the Deucal said with deceptive calm, "if that is your final word, if I cannot have your man, then no one will have him. I'll not risk you sending him to conquer my lands, now that you have been beyond my lines and seen the layout of my capital." With that, he reached for his belt.

Next thing Jim knew, Acheron made a throwing motion. There was a whooshing sound. Then, Khan was holding the dagger that the Deucal had thrown at him, having snatched it clean out of the air. Acheron gave a sound of surprise, pushing back his chair and rising, even as Khan leapt out of his chair, vaulting over the table.

He had reached Acheron while everyone else was still getting their bearings, the captured dagger at the nobleman's throat. "Surrender," the Augment hissed, "or I'll kill you."

Meanwhile, four crossbowmen had stepped out from behind a curtain, taking aim at Jim.

"Let me go," Acheron said to Khan, ignoring the dagger at his throat with admirable aplomb, "or Senescal Kirk dies."

Khan whirled, pale eyes taking in the positions of the marksmen, Jim's position, the distance he would have to cover to obstruct the marksmen's line of sight, but Jim made the decision for him.

"Stand down," he said, making it an order while knowing full well that Khan only followed orders if he agreed with them. "It's not worth it."

Khan looked at him, his expression inscrutable. Then he looked down at the Deucal he still held in his grasp.

Jim urgently shook his head at him. If Khan killed the nobleman, they would lose any leverage they had, and the entire town would turn against them. They would not be able beam out here in front of everyone. Surely Khan knew all this.

Acheron used the brief moment of indecision to yell, "Shoot!"

Jim grimaced. Khan might have stood down. Maybe. Possibly. But there was no chance in hell he would now.

With a roar, Khan thrust the Deucal aside even as the peculiar twanging sound of releasing bowstrings filled the cavernous room, followed by shouts for guards.

Jim dropped flat, sparing a split second of time for feeling relieved that Khan had not killed Acheron after all. The crossbow bolts passed overhead and hit the stone walls with a clatter. Already, Khan had reached him, pulling him upright and propelling him towards the door with superhuman strength.

But they were still not fast enough. Guardsmen with drawn swords met them in the narrow passageway beyond the door. Khan immediately positioned himself in front of Jim, wrestling a blade out of a surprised man's grasp, and began to fight his way through.

Jim dodged to the side, thinking to do the same thing and join the fray, but once more, the order to shoot was yelled from behind them. Half turning to cover his back with a wall, Jim looked back and see the marksmen advancing towards them, their reloaded crossbows aimed right at them.

Khan, who apparently had anticipated this, had already grabbed one of his opponents, and, using the man as a living shield, again put himself between Jim and danger before the first bolt flew.

Four crossbow strings were let loose. There were four soft plops of impact, the man in Khan's grasp jerking in pain, and, Jim was horrified to see, one of the projectiles hitting Khan's shoulder.

The Augment made a sound, more of annoyance than of pain, dropped the guardsman, and turned back to the melee, seemingly unaffected by the injury, even though the bolt was deeply embedded in his shoulder.

More guards came running, assembling faster than even Khan would be able to subdue them with or without Jim's help. The Augment seemed to realize this at the same time as Jim said, "Stand down!" Growling, Khan lowered his blade and dropped it, appearing completely in control again a second later.

Acheron appeared from behind them, with his own sword drawn and pointed at Khan, ignoring Jim completely. Khan stared back, the fringe of his dark hair half covering his face, menace emanating from every pore.

"I shall have you, or no one will," the Deucal said, looking torn between admiration and animosity. Then he finally deigned to grace Jim with his attention. "I shall let you live because only a fool fights at two fronts, and killing you would make your land my enemy. But for now, you are my prisoner until you surrender your man to me."

"Not gonna happen," Jim said cheerfully. "But consider this: If we don't return soon, my Deucal will send more men over to find out what happened to us. Did you really think that he -" he nodded at Khan - "… is unique? We have dozens like him, Deucal. Dozens."

Acheron smiled, clearly not easily cowed. "That may or may not be so, but they would be far away, while you are here now." He looked at the guards. "Throw them in the dungeon."


	2. Chapter 2

The heavy door fell shut behind them, a key turning in the lock with metallic finality.

 _This is some dungeon_ , Jim had to admit. If someone had taken the epitome of the word and distilled it into reality, the result would look very much like this. It was dark. It was cold. Stone walls made out of roughly hewn, heavy granite blocks surrounded them on all sides. The door was made of what looked like solid oaken planks reinforced by iron bands nailed across. A pile of straw in one corner was their only bedding. A wooden pail in another corner completed the entirety of their amenities. The only light they had was what filtered through a tiny opening just underneath the ceiling, far out of reach. Otherwise, nothing. Not even a blanket.

"I'm a Senescal, dammit," Jim quipped. "Don't I rate at least a lumpy mattress on the ground? I'm not demanding running hot water or anyth-..."

He did not get to finish his sentence, because there Khan was, right in his face, running his hands over him, smelling his neck, giving him as thorough a checkup as Jim had ever been subjected to. It only took a moment, then Khan stepped back, looking satisfied.

"I'm fine, Noonien," Jim said unnecessarily, touched by the evident concern. With anyone else, he probably would have responded with annoyance at being patronized, at the mere suggestion that he could be injured or harmed in any way. With Khan, who valued family above all else, he felt... honored. Honored to be deemed important enough to be worried about.

"Just as well, for them," Khan replied, voice sepulchral, leaving the rest of his meaning unspoken.

Jim, picking up on the implied threat easily, gave the Augment a fond smile. This was what he had wanted, back then - being the focus of Khan's insane streak of protectiveness. Now that he had it, it felt as good as he'd hoped it would.

The remark he was about to make died on his lips when he caught sight of the bloodied crossbow bolt still sticking out of Khan's shoulder. It was embedded deeply enough to have penetrated all the way to the Augment's shoulder blade. But before he could mention it, Khan had already turned away to inspect their new surroundings. Jim watched him move slowly about their cell, peering at the walls, at the door and its heavy hinges, his movements seemingly unimpeded by the wound.

"Need help getting that out?" Jim finally asked, wondering why Khan had not long since removed the bolt. It had to be painful, even for someone as inured to pain as an Augment.

Throwing him a look, Khan smiled a short, terse smile. "No." With that, he casually pulled the thing out and held it up. It was an ugly implement, maybe ten or twelve inches long, metal tip, hard dark wood, and covered in Khan's blood. "It was stopping the bleeding, so I left it in. Best not to remove it too soon and risk letting them see the wound healing. Besides, it proved a good way of smuggling a weapon in here." He tossed the bolt at Jim, who caught it neatly, astonished at how heavy it was. It would make a nice impromptu dagger.

"Good thinking."

"Naturally."

Jim grinned, concealing the bolt in his boot. "So, can you get us out?"

"Naturally. These hinges won't resist for long. It seems that the natives haven't yet discovered the advantage of screws over nails. It's what we will encounter beyond that poses the real problem."

"Right. You still have the communicator?"

"Yes. Should I report in?"

Jim thought about it. "No. We haven't secured the mining rights yet," he finally said. It was their mission, after all, and Jim's inner perfectionist, the one he tried so hard to hide, would hate having to report a failure.

"True. I rate the chances of that still happening to be slim, though," Khan commented.

"Also true. That Acheron guy seems pretty stubborn, but it won't do him any good. I don't intend to give you up in exchange."

"I don't intend to let you."

Jim grinned. This was better. Despite their somewhat dire situation, he felt safe, as if nothing could get at him, as long as he was with Khan. "How's your shoulder?"

The Augment did a few experimental twists of the shoulder in question, wincing slightly. "Healing. Getting inflamed. I should be fully functional again in an hour or two at most."

"Well, don't move it too much, then." Jim gave him a look, trying not to conceal his worry. Khan had said he was healing, so he was going to be all right, right? "Wait, 'inflamed'?"

Khan, who had resumed his slow circuit around their cell, half turned his head towards Jim. "That bolt wasn't exactly sterile, so, yes, inflamed. Letting the bolt remain in the wound means leaving the bacteria in, too, instead of them getting flushed out with blood. My body is fighting them."

Jim tried not to feel stupid. "I kind of thought you couldn't even get an inflammation."

Now, Khan stopped and faced him. "Attempts were made to slice _Penicillium notatum_ genes into our DNA so as to give us the ability to synthesize penicillin, for this exact kind of situation. It didn't work, fungus genes being too different from mammalian genes to be easily integrated into the human genome. So, yes, my wounds can get inflamed. As I said, I'm not perfect, just better." To Jim's ears, he sounded strangely defensive.

Jim stepped up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. He couldn't help but notice that the body he touched was hot, even through all the layers of fabric. "That wasn't a reproach, Noonien."

"Reproaching me for something I have no control over wouldn't make sense," Khan scowled, still in that same defensive tone of voice. He looked like he was about to add something, then he seemed to slump, as if some internal tensile strength had given out. But that didn't last long either, and he straightened again. "We should be considering our strategy."

Jim found that he couldn't guess at what Khan might be thinking or feeling. _Is he feeling caged? Is he angry at having been taken prisoner, at having betrayed weakness to the enemy by protecting me? Is he feeling his injury and thinking he must compensate? Is he resentful for not actually being perfect? All this time, and I still don't know him all that well._ "We can do that sitting down," he tried, nodding at the heap of hay.

To his surprise, Khan readily went along with that suggestion, letting himself sink into the hay and pulling Jim along with him, until they were both sitting close to each other. "This is much cleaner than I expected," he commented. "I'd have thought the smell of urine would pervade everything." Then he seemed to dismiss his thoughts, pulling Jim close and wrapping his arms around him to let his head come to rest against his shoulder.

From this close, Jim could feel the heat the Augment's body now emitted, and the tiny shivers that wracked him. "You're running a fever," he commented, worry clear in his voice even to his own ears.

"Common reaction to inflammation," Khan mumbled, eyes closed and head heavy on Jim's shoulder. "Should have run its course in a few minutes."

And the fever was indeed rising, so high and so fast that Jim could practically feel Khan being taking by it. "Rest," he said softly, wrapping his own arms around the  shivering Augment. "We're not going anywhere for a while."

"Acheron will send someone in here soon for me," Khan objected, eyes closed, voice low and monotone, unwilling to stop strategizing even now. "One last effort at convincing me to join him. When I refuse, he'll employ more drastic measures. He won't kill me, but he will try to scare me into compliance. If he is observant enough, which I have no doubt he is, he will threaten me with taking your life. I doubt if he will kill you, either, but that still leaves many things he can do to you that won't result in your death."

Jim grimaced. It sounded likely. Khan could probably anticipate the Deucal's actions better than most, seeing as how they were so similar, and how Khan was such an expert at taking the measure of his enemy. "I don't exactly feel like getting a crash course on medieval torture techniques," he quipped.

Khan's arms around Jim tightened. "I won't let that happen, Jim," he said, voice still low, but with a definite undertone of determination.

"If what you think will happen will, in fact, happen, what are we gonna do to keep it from happening?"

"The best we can with what we are given." Khan's voice seemed to be fading. He had stopped shivering, but when Jim put a hand on the Augment's cheek, he could feel the tight skin, hot and reddened with fever. "Give me… a few minutes."

"Sure."

Silence descended as Jim held him, cradling his head with one hand and holding him upright with the other, feeling him radiate heat like a living oven. This was just like the inhumanly high fever he had been running when the sleeper agent poisoned him. Only this time, he could heal the fever heat damage as soon as it was done. Or so Jim hoped.

A terrible thought struck. What if Khan's healing was still affected? Two times now, Bones' knock-out drug had taken out the Augment's healing ability. What if, this time, some effect still lingered?

Khan's head lifted. "What is it?" the Augment whispered, dragging his eyes open to look at Jim blearily.

 _He's picked up on my feelings,_ Jim realized. _He thinks we're in danger._ "Nothing," he said quickly. "I'm sorry. Just a thought. Don't mind me. Take some rest."

"You smell of fear, Jim," Khan persisted, blinking, obviously trying to focus through the haze of fever.

"It was just a stupid thought."

"Tell me."

Briefly, Jim considered being stubborn, but Khan probably was better than him even at that, and he didn't want to upset the Augment needlessly. He sighed. "I'm afraid you won't heal right because of that stuff Bones cooked up."

Khan looked at him, unmoving. Then he put his head back on Jim's shoulder. "You're worried about me," he said, sounding awed. "That hasn't happened in so long, someone worrying about me. I thank you for it."

Jim smiled sadly, holding him, struck dumb by affection and sympathy.

"Still, don't be," Khan went on after a long moment, his forehead beginning to glisten with sweat. "Everything is as it should be. Trust me, I know. I've had wounds like this before. My body is killing the bacteria so the wound can heal cleanly. Just a peak of high fever, for a few minutes. See?" He moved back from Jim, opening his tunic at the neck to expose his shoulder.

The wound Jim saw looked as if it was at least a week old, scabbed over and showing new pink skin at the edges. Even as Jim watched, he saw Khan break out in a sweat, and he knew that the fever was breaking already.

Eventually, when the sweat had stopped running down Khan's face, the Augment sighed in relief. "This is better. I hate not being able to think properly."

He had barely finished his sentence when they could both hear voices and steps approaching.

Khan straightened, moving out of their hug and pulling the drawstring of his tunic tight, concealing the fading wound from view. Wiping the last traces of sweat off his forehead and upper lip, he looked at Jim intently. "I will keep you safe, Jim. They will not get their hands on you."

Jim didn't have time to respond before Khan moved to the far wall of the cell and bent down.

A key rattled in the lock; the door opened and a short, stocky man walked in, built like an Earth pit-bull, with a scowl to match. In the corridor behind him, Jim could see the outlines of two more men, illuminated by period-perfect open-flamed torch light.

The man inside the cell looked briefly at Jim and then at Khan before focusing on the Augment. "You. Come with me." 

Khan approached them, returning the man's scowl stare for stare. "No."

This seemed to stump the man, but only for a moment. With a big grin showing teeth that looked incongruously white and even, he pointed at Jim. "Come with me, or he dies."

On cue, the two men outside pointed loaded crossbows at Jim.

Jim could hear Khan draw in air sharply through his nose and knew that the Augment was fighting down rage. "You won't kill him," Khan stated with extreme confidence. "Your Deucal needs him as leverage. Killing him would start another war, and you know it. Stop trying to bluff me."

The thickset man grinned again. "Don't have to kill him. Just grazing him with one of these will do it. Not immediately. Evil humors take a long time to kill a man."

Jim considered making a quip involving his own evil humor, just to break the tension. Khan sure sounded like he was spoiling for a fight, which Jim was sure wasn't the best idea right now, so a little tension-breakage seemed indicated.

But Khan's self control made that unnecessary. Air hissed again through his nose, but the Augment seemed to take the situation seriously enough to contain his savagery. And, of course, the master strategist knew when he was outmaneuvered. "Listen to me," he said, turning to face Jim. "I have hidden the communicator behind the pail."

As he spoke, Jim could see his lips move in sounds that did not match the sounds he was hearing, and he knew that the universal translator was active. Khan was not speaking English. Since both their translators were programmed to translate only English into any language and any language into English, the Herculeans would not understand Khan if he were speaking any non-English language while Jim still would.

He nodded, not daring to reply, since none of his other languages were up to scratch, and the natives would understand anything said in English. _He left me the device. He'll let himself be taken away, to protect me_ , was the one thought in his head.

"Silence!" the man roared, correctly guessing that collusions were going on. "Come with me, now, or we'll pepper your Senescal with bolts!"

Holding his hands up to indicate his compliance, Khan walked towards him.

Jim watched. He knew full well that Khan didn't need weapons to kill a man. His hands, coincidentally, were right where they needed to be to crush the man's skull. But when Khan reached the man, nothing happened. Instead, the Augment let himself be bound - again, Jim knew that the rope would probably not hold him if he really wanted to escape -, and be lead away, almost meekly.

_For me. For his family._

The cell door fell shut, leaving Jim alone in his cell; alone with his thoughts.

 

* * *

 

Khan knew, as soon as he entered the room Deucal Acheron awaited him in, that he was confronted by a task worthy of his skills.

At least five more men were hiding behind the curtain again, and another two behind each of the supporting pillars. From the sweet smell of wax he had noticed on the crossbow strings before, these men, too, were armed with crossbows, but the distinct sharp scent of forged iron was also in the air. There was only one exit to the room, and the heavy door had fallen shut as soon as Khan had entered. The windows were barred. No way out except through the door.

In a pinch, the large table could be used, either as a projectile or as cover. The iron grate in the fireplace, along with the poker, could serve as a weapon. So, of course, could each weapon wielded by those present. But he would need his hands free for any of that. The rope that still bound him would impede him for a few seconds, and a lot could happen in a few seconds.

In summary, Khan knew that timing would be crucial. He was outnumbered ten to one, unarmed, and bound. 

Fighting his way out,though, was not his plan. His priority was keeping Jim safe. The way back to Jim's cell was clearly edged in the map in his mind, along with the positions of all guards he had seen along the way. He'd need a plan to clear that route, and the way out, before he could start anything violent.

"Will you join me?" Acheron asked without preamble. "Will you stay here to lead my armies, in exchange for this ore you seek?"

"What makes you think I changed my mind?" Khan replied, keeping a tight lid on his  expression and feeling his nostrils flare as he tried to get a bead on what Acheron was feeling. Despite their similarities to normal humans, he found it exceedingly difficult to catch the natives' scents. Odd.

"I had expected you to use the time in the dungeon to think on what I told you. You follow the Senescal, like a lapdog. Anyone can see that you can be so much more."

Khan smiled. "I have outgrown the urge for world domination. Your offer didn't tempt me the first time, and it doesn't now."

Acheron raised his brows. "It does not? By my side, you would be able to use your knowledge and skills on the battlefield. You would feel the exhilaration of combat again, the thrill of victory. Tell me you truly are not tempted and make me believe you."

 _How does this man know so much about me?_ Khan wondered, keeping his face expressionless.

The truth was, a part of him _was_ tempted; the part that Marcus had tried to foster, the part that yearned for battle, for using his body the way it was designed; the part that longed to feel defeated eyes look up at him, that reveled in making people do his bidding, and in shaping and leading nations. The part he could only rarely indulge, and then never to the full. The part he constantly fought to suppress, in order to be able to function among civilized beings.

That part that had no say unless he allowed it to, because he was stronger than that. "No, Deucal," he said, emphasizing each word. "I am not tempted."

Squinting slightly, the Herculean regarded him in silence. Finally, he nodded. "Your Senescal may be, though, if this ore is as important to you as you claim."

Now, Khan frowned. "We never said anything about its importance to us. We only said that our alchemists are excited about it. Life will go on for us if these negotiations fail. So, no, he won't be tempted, either." Mentally, he took a step back, detaching himself briefly from the proceedings. Something was wrong here. Many little things - each one, by itself, merely strange - were slowly coalescing into a whole that was decidedly off. He could almost, but not quite, put his finger on it.

"So say you," Acheron said, calling Khan back to the here and now. "I shall ask him, of course. But even if you will not be tempted, maybe you can be intimidated. We will torture Senescal Kirk until you do comply."

Khan felt his muscles tense in an involuntary response, preparing to break the rope that bound his arms, and to crush this man's skull for threatening his family, his loved one. Only a supreme effort of will kept him still. As much as he would enjoy it, ending this man would not solve the immediate problem and in fact make things worse in very short order.

"Torturing him won't do you any good," Khan growled, allowing his nascent rage to be heard in his voice. "I would comply, if only to save his life. Yes, I would stay, under duress. But you could never be sure of my loyalty, Deucal. I don't take kindly to being browbeaten. I would remain your enemy, never be your willing general. I would do everything in my power to hinder you at every turn, until your reign is overthrown. I will overthrow you myself if your enemies fail to do so in a reasonable amount of time."

Acheron looked at him, a slight smile on his lips. "That, I can believe. Very well. Riches, then? Gold?"

"Don't insult me." Again, the impression that something was very wrong here assailed Khan's mind.

"As you wish."

The strange undertone in the alien nobleman's voice was Khan's only warning, but it was the only warning he needed. Tensing his arms, he strained to break the rope binding him

But even his augmented strength could not do it quickly enough. With two steps, Acheron had reached him and torn open his tunic, exposing the wound. Or rather the place where the wound had been, were now was but a clean, pink scar. "What are you?" the Deucal breathed.

"I might ask you the same question," Khan returned, letting the rope fall to the floor and shaking out his arms, assuming a defensive position. Like pinpricks in the back of his head, he remained aware of all the positions of the marksmen in the room - far too many, and impossible to evade all at once. This was going to be difficult, but since when had he ever let that stop him? "You know both too much and too little. This place is too perfect. The people here are too healthy. I am positive that your dungeon never held any prisoners. This all seems like some elaborate charade. Why? What is your purpose?"

"Of course," Acheron said, looking delighted. "You of all people would not be deceived. Clever, and strong, and not so easy to kill. You will never leave this place. Shoot him."

Khan somersaulted out of the line of fire of most of the crossbow bolts, letting momentum take him in the direction of the heavy table. It might just be heavy enough to get the door out of the way.

Acheron, very wisely, retreated to the back of the room, keeping well clear.

But then the door opened, spoiling Khan's strategy by spilling a dozen more men armed with lances, shields, and swords. There was no way out except through them.

That would not have stopped him either, except for Acheron uttering the words he had feared: "Surrender, or I will have your precious Senescal killed."

It made Khan hesitate a split second too long. There was a massive blow to his back that nearly made him lose his balance.

The pain was negligible, because he was made to ignore it. Looking down, he saw the metal tip of a spear sticking out of his chest. It had skewered him all the way through. From its position slightly to the right of his breast bone and from the fact that he could still feel his pulse in his throat, he surmised that his heart was largely intact. Breathing was not going to happen for a while, though; not even he would be able to force his body to work with collapsed lungs for long.

But no way would he go down like this, struck like a pig. He gripped the point with both hands, slippery with his own blood and tissue, and pulled. By the time he had pulled the spear out, all the way through his body, the fighters had converged on him, and he looked at a sea of metal points held threateningly in his face.

"Surrender, or your Senescal dies!" Acheron yelled from behind the line of his men.

Khan dropped the spear that had been in his body. It always came down to this. "I surrender," he gasped with the last air he had. Surrender, for his family. Staying alive didn't matter if he had no one to fight for.

And he needed to stay alive, and conscious, until Jim was safe at least. His blood was still oxygenated, enough to keep him conscious for a few more minutes even without breathing, less if he exerted himself. Time for some emergency first aid.

Carefully, he backed away from the bolts and spears towards where he remembered one of the tall supporting pillars to be, the wound in his back and the exit wound in his chest gurgling with blood and air from his perforated lung even though he deliberately held his breath. No one hindered him. Then his back connected with the pillar, and he pushed up against it, pressing both hands against the exit wound in his chest, sealing the wound tight from both ends. With superhuman effort, he ignored the pain and forced air into the collapsed lung, once, twice, until he could feel it inflate again.

Which was the moment when the deafening silence in the room reached him. The natives hadn't moved. Everyone was staring at him with varying degrees of astonishment on their faces. It would almost be comical if the situation weren't so dire.

He broke the silence by coughing out a mouthful of half-congealed blood. Again, pain flared, but breathing immediately started to get easier. Raising his head, he stared back at the natives, still backed up against the pillar, hands still holding the wound closed.

"This is impossible," someone whispered.

"No one should be able to," another said, more loudly.

"Take him to an empty cell," Acheron ordered, eyes shining. "I would learn how he can cling to life like this."

 

* * *

 

Back in his picture-perfect dungeon cell, Jim had found the in-ear communicator where Khan had hidden it, and, figuring it was as good a place as any to conceal it, had inserted it into his ear. For a minute, he considered calling the ship but decided against it. There was nothing to report. They had not secured the mining rights yet. Nobody was in any immediate danger (at least Jim sincerely hoped Khan wasn't). There was no point in risking brain damage. Yet.

Instead, he paced and thought.

Khan had to be aware that, in his efforts to protect Jim, he had betrayed a weakness. For one so keen on having the strategic advantage at all times, that had to rankle. _What if he decides that the risk is not worth it? What if his own safety is paramount after all?_

Deep down, Jim knew that this was a baseless fear. Almost from the moment he had known the Augment, Jim had realized that Khan put family above all else - to the point of letting himself be used by Admiral Marcus, and letting himself be taken prisoner by Jim, all in order to protect his crew. But still… _What if, after all this, he wants nothing more to do with me?_

Time passed. Jim's thoughts worried at this idea like a terrier. At last, the door opened, putting an end to his worrying, and there was the pit bull-like Herculean again.

 _He looks like a Frank,_ Jim decided. The thought made him grin.

"What is so funny?" 'Frank' promptly demanded.

"Nothing." Jim turned serious again.  He couldn't help but notice the absence of Khan in the hallway. "Where's my companion?"

"I cannot tell you that at this time," 'Frank' said, unhelpfully. "But you are very concerned about him."

"Of course," Jim said. "He's my friend." He peered at the man, wondering whether they had been entirely unobserved earlier when Khan fought the infection. "Why are you here?"

'Frank' pulled the door shut behind him. A rattling of keys indicated that it was locked from outside. "To talk."

Jim made an inviting gesture. "So, talk."

"If I were to repeat my Deucal's offer, what would you say? All of our ore that you want in exchange for your companion. You could  mine our lands to your heart's content, for however long you wish. No other price. No other obligations. A single life for a continent full of precious ore."

 _I bet Starfleet Command would love this,_ wasJim's first thought, _if they knew about Khan. They'd be rid of him and get the dilithium for free on top of it. Such a sweet deal, and probably unique in all of history._

He smiled. "Sorry. The answer's still no."

"Maybe you are the wrong person for this negotiation, then. What if we repeated this offer to your Deucal directly?"

 _Depends who you ask._ In his mind, Jim pictured Admiral Komack as his Deucal. "The answer would still be no, and you know why? Because we don't measure a man's life in rocks. We don't sell our people like cattle. And it doesn't matter, either, that my companion is such a highly-skilled individual. He could be a lowly worker, or even a cripple. The answer would be the same. We value all life equally." _Unless we ask scumbags like Marcus and the life in question is the life of an Augment, in which case all bets are off._

The man regarded Jim in silence for a moment. "It seems we underestimated you," he finally said, and Jim at last clocked on to what had been so off about 'Frank' this whole time. The man did not act like an underling. He seemed more like a second-in-command than like a jailor. "We owe you an apology."

Before Jim could digest this, someone hammered on the door. "Zyclim!" a voice called.

'Frank' made a sound of annoyance, while Jim realized that, since the translator had not rendered that word into English, it had to be a given name.

"What?" 'Frank' - no, probably Zyclim - replied.

A key rattled, and the door opened. "It's Acheron," an unknown Herculean said, looking thoroughly upset. "He's broken protocol. He and the others have taken the other one. They want to study him for his healing ability."

Zyclim swallowed, then turned to Jim. "I am very sorry. It seems that we have failed the very test we put you to."


	3. Chapter 3

"Okay," Jim said hotly, "will someone _please_ explain to me what the _hell_ is going on?"

'Frank' opened his mouth, but Jim cut him off.

"On second thoughts, save it for later. First things first. Take me to my companion. Now!"

Frank - no, Zyclim - looked panicked. It was an incongruous look on his pit-bull features. "Acheron has drawn many men to his side. We would be grievously outnumbered!"

As was often the case, Jim strongly felt that this was no time to be reasonable. "I don't care. I need to get Khan out of there. This kind of shit has happened to him before. I don't want -" He cut himself off. No confidences towards these strangers. Not yet. "If you're not coming, fine. I'm going. Tell me where he is!"

Zyclim bit his lip. "I will bring you there. But you will need arms at the very least!"

"Already got two of 'em," Jim could not resist quipping, half-way out the door.

Then he was running, Zyclim and the other Herculean trailing behind with Zyclim shouting directions now and then. Along the pathway, up some stairs, along another corridor, down another flight of stairs.

"We're almost there," Zyclim panted from behind Jim, pointing towards the end of the next corridor. His stocky stature clearly was not made for sprinting. "It's behind that door."

The information was unnecessary, as it turned out, because the unmistakable sounds of battle could be heard all the way to where they were. Then Khan's voice gave a cry of what Jim instantly recognized as pain.

"There's gonna be a fucking bloodbath," Jim cursed, running towards the ruckus. "They hurt him. He's gonna kill them all."

The unknown Herculean who had tagged along silently veered off towards another corridor. "I will get help," he said by way of explanation.

Help, or more people to fight, how was Jim to know? But it didn't matter. He was going to get Khan out of there and then cross whatever bridges turned up next.

The cries and crashes and dull impacts became louder as Jim approached the door Zyclim had pointed out. He could discern Khan's voice giving wordless roars of battle rage - a reassuring and worrying sound. Those were sounds that Jim had heard only very rarely from the Augment, only when Khan was beyond reason. But at least they meant that he was still alive, still upright, still fighting.

The door turned out to be locked. Dismayed, Jim turned to Zyclim.

The Herculean produced a key. "He did not anticipate my betrayal. This is all highly irregular, you know. We never meant -"

"Yeah, yeah, you can tell me all that later," Jim said, snatching the key out of Zyclim's grasp to insert it into the lock.

The heavy wooden door opened to Pandaemonium. A weathered darkwood table dominated the room, four shackles with chains fastened to it, one of them bloodied. Along the walls were more tables, some overturned, those still upright holding metal implements that were standard in any torture chamber. Unmoving bodies lay strewn haphazardly; half a dozen injured men were huddling, groaning, out of the way. Khan was a roaring, bloodied mess surrounded by at least another half a dozen men, bleeding from a collection of wounds that would surely have felled any normal human long ago. And directly in front of Jim, holding a spear, was Acheron, with his back to the door, never having noticed it opening.

"Get him back on the table!" the Deucal shouted, taking a wary step back, right into Jim's reach.

Jim had heard enough, seen enough. To hell with honorable fighting. Pulling the crossbow bolt out of his boot, he rammed the thing into the back of Acheron's neck, angling it up into the man's brain.

Acheron collapsed without a sound, an event that went unnoticed by everyone else in the room. Khan kept on fighting, downing one enemy and turning to the next one with another roar. The man, too, went down, gurgling, bleeding heavily from a wound in his throat, and that was the moment when Jim _saw and understood what he was seeing,_  and the world seemed to shift, leaving his stomach where it was.

Khan's left hand was gone. His forearm ended in two jagged bone ends that he was using as a stabbing weapon. Wild-eyed, disheveled, covered in blood. Acting purely on instinct.

Footsteps in the corridor heralded the arrival of the cavalry. Or at least Jim fervently hoped that those weren't more of Acheron's men. He wasn't checking; keeping an eye on Khan and his opponents was of paramount importance.

"Cease this fighting," Zyclim yelled from behind Jim, "Acheron has fallen. The battle is over. Cease!"

Those words never reached Khan, who apparently only realized that the door was open and there was a way out. He immediately made a run for it, coming right at them, blood dripping from that terrible stump.

"Khan!" Jim yelled. "Noonien. Stop! Stand down!"

"It's over!" Zyclim added from next to Jim, holding out his hands towards the enraged Augment as if trying to calm a runaway horse.

"No!" Jim said, horrified. "Don't -"

With a roar, Khan promptly went for Zyclim.

It was a testament to how badly Khan must be injured that Jim actually managed to pull the Herculean clear of the double blow - one with Khan's good hand, and one with the double-dagger stump. Zyclim went flying, leaving Khan bereft of his opponent.

"Almighty," Zyclim gasped from where Jim had thrown him, clearly only now realizing what had happened to Khan. And almost to himself.

Watching the Herculeans Khan had been fighting out of the corner of his eye, Jim tried to catch the Augment's wild gaze. "Noonien. It's me, JIm. Stand down!"

No response except for another roar, and then Khan threw himself at Jim, the next obstacle on his way to freedom.

For the first time since Khan had entered Jim Kirk's existence, he actually feared for his life at the Augment's hands. Instinctively, he knew that he could not fight back. Fighting back would surely get him killed. But it was hard to do nothing when a hand roughly cupped the back of his head and the sharp edges of jagged bones touched his throat, preparing to stab him. "Noonien..."

And he didn't die. For a second or two, his life hung in the balance, but finally there was recognition in Khan's face. A brief widening of his eyes, and the Augment let go and whirled, turning his back to Jim to face the remaining Herculeans, clearly intent on defending Jim from them, switching gears so fast that Jim's head was left spinning.

And Jim was horrified to notice that the blood stain he had seen on Khan's chest had a gurgling, hissing twin on his back. The association of entry and exit wound was immediate and nausea-inducing.

As it turned out, there were no more enemies for Khan to fight. Robbed of their leader, the remaining Herculeans had dropped their weapons and stepped back, looking both scared and relieved. Jim heard mutters about "demon" and "devil".

Realizing this, Khan turned back to Jim. "Are you all right, Jim?" were the first words out of the Augment's mouth, sounding slightly breathless, his voice strained but diction impeccable. Then he coughed and spit out blood, but he didn't fall. He merely bent over briefly, only to straighten again.

"Fine," Jim said, staring. Khan's left hand was gone. He had been speared clean through. He was still upright. Still aware, and battle-ready. A miracle. The man was a miracle.

"What about the mining rights?" Khan said, holding his left arm in front of his face and looking at the jagged bone ends as if he hadn't noticed the injury before.

"Fuck the mining rights," Jim said succinctly.

"They're still on the table," Zyclim interjected, sounding a little timid. And no wonder. It wasn't every day that you almost got stabbed by an ulna and a radius. The Herculean had picked himself up off the floor and was keeping a prudent distance.

"Good," Khan said. He seemed to falter at last, but caught himself and looked at Jim. "Is the situation resolved?"

Jim smiled sadly. He had no doubt that, if he said otherwise, Khan would still be willing and able to go on fighting even now, never stopping, until he dropped dead. Made to be the ultimate fighting machine, indeed. "The situation is resolved," he said, for the record. "You can stand down."

"Good," Khan said again. And then, whatever superhuman hold he had had over his body finally gave out. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed into Jim's waiting arms.

 

* * *

 

Zyclim had found a room for them. It had been imperative that they leave this place with the table and its shackles and all the torture implements, and that Khan be in a place where he could heal undisturbed.

"You can rest here. I will let no one enter this room until you give the word," the Herculean promised.

There still was the mission. So many unanswered questions that needed to be addressed. Their strategic situation was unclear - Jim was leaving the assessment of his and Khan's safety to a virtual stranger, something he would have to be creative about in his report. There were only so many times he could fall back on the old 'gut feeling' as a justification for taking a risk.

But to hell with all that right now. Khan was injured, and as Jim had seen, the Augment was much too dangerous to leave alone when he was injured. The full picture of what was going on on this planet would simply have to wait.

Jim carried the unconscious Augment in his arms, again noticing that he was heavier than he looked. Vaguely, Jim remembered Bones saying something about bone density and muscular structure. It didn't matter. What mattered was that Khan currently was unable to walk, and so Jim would get him wherever he needed to be.

The room was empty, its walls white, no curtains before the only window, no furnishings except for a cot, barely broad enough to fit two persons. Jim settled Khan on it, mindful of the Augment's many injuries.

As he was laid down, Khan made a soft sound and blinked his eyes open, but before Jim could catch his gaze, he closed his eyes again with a pained sigh and simply lay there, not moving from the position Jim had placed him in, looking so pathetically helpless that Jim felt something inside him clench up.

He carefully arranged the limbs into what he hoped was a comfortable position, totally out of his depth where the arm stump was concerned. Khan had mentioned that he would do this - break any bone to get free. He had also said that a lost limb would regrow. At the very least, it had stopped bleeding. So, what now? Bandage the stump? Wouldn't the bandage be in the way of the growing limb? Could he just leave it like it was? What about infection? Shut he cut off the jagged bones, so the forearm could regrow cleanly, or would that only make it worse?

Now that he really had time to look at it, it did seem like the jagged bone ends were softening and growing translucent, beginning to look like cartilage rather than bone. Clearly, something was happening. He could only hope that it was what was supposed to be happening.

Belatedly, Jim remembered that he could call the Enterprise and ask for advice.

At that moment, Khan opened his eyes again, and the thought evaporated.

The Augment looked around blearily, blinking slowly, obviously having a hard time focussing. Then, his features assumed an expression of pain, and he gave a soft sound of agony.

Jim looked on, helpless. It wasn't the first time that Khan had been so badly injured that he barely seemed coherent, but it was the first time that the facilities of sickbay - and Bones - weren't available to reassure Jim. And he needed reassurance. Knowing theoretically that the Augment would heal wasn't enough when he could see Khan's bones practically liquify before his eyes, and when he had sustained a sucking chest wound.

Maybe he really should call the Enterprise, brain-damage be damned.

Before he could say or do anything, though, the Augment's eyes managed to find Jim. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

That didn't compute. "What? What for?"

"I need just a few hours. Just a few hours. I'll heal. Please..."

Khan saying 'please'? Nope, still didn't compute. "Sure," Jim said for want of anything more clever to say. "Just rest. Get better. It's all right."

"Please," Khan repeated as if he hadn't heard. Maybe he hadn't. He sounded strange. Young. He was looking at Jim, but Jim wasn't sure it was him who the Augment was seeing. "Please. Don't terminate me."

"What?!" _Terminate him? What the hell...?_ "Why would I do that?"

"So tired... can't fight anymore... I know I should... but I need to rest... just for a few hours..."

"You don't need to fight," Jim blurted out. "There's nothing to fight here. You can rest. I promise. You're safe." 

"Not... safe until I make certain. First lesson I ever learned. But I can't make certain. Don't even know where I am. This isn't safe." Khan's voice was soft, dreamy, but he looked aware, like in a waking dream.

"It is safe," Jim insisted. "Trust me, Noonien. Trust in me. Trust me to keep you safe."

Khan blinked, frowning, then his expression cleared. "Jim."

"Yeah," Jim said, relieved. "It's me. We're safe for the moment. Acheron is dead. Just rest."

There was a pause, and finally Khan said, "Good." He closed his eyes, cradling his injured arm to his chest.

"That will heal, right?" Jim said, still needing reassurance.

"Yes," Khan whispered to Jim's immense relief, eyes still closed. After a moment, he opened them and held out his good hand to Jim in a silent plea.

Jim didn't need to be asked twice. Carefully sliding onto the narrow cot next to Khan, he edged himself close, trying not to pile onto the injured Augment. There was so much blood. God only knew what wounds Khan's clothes were concealing in addition to the ones that were so blatantly obvious. Was the hole in his chest still hissing with air escaping from his lungs? And even now, Jim could feel the Augment's body heat up with that inhumanly high fever as his body began to fight infections from numerous wounds.

With a soft sound of pain, Khan tried to turn his face so he could find Jim's smell, eyes closed, seeming more like a newborn kitten than the fierce tiger he normally tended to remind Jim of.

And JIm, as always, found it impossible to stay unmoved. To be the one Khan, strong, indomitable Khan should turn to, the way Jim had wanted it to be, the way he had offered it to him, being affording so much trust - how would anyone be able to refuse him? Gently, he cradled the Augment's head in his hand and held it so Khan could press his fever-hot face into Jim's neck, held him there, feeling him breathe, in and out, and finally relax, and it made Jim want to cry with joy and tenderness.

For a while, there was silence, the only sounds Khan's breathing and the soft stroking of Jim's thumb over the Augment's hair. Jim watched him heal, watched the stump of Khan's left arm dissolve, literally losing structure, until only a pink mass of tissue was left, moist to the touch, and very warm. Jim gently removed the tunic from Khan's chest, exposing all the wounds, scratches, jagged cuts, bleeding bruises, and watched them scab over and begin to fade. The fever rose and peaked, and finally broke.

Khan, meanwhile, kept his eyes closed and seemed to be dozing, only now and then opening his eyes to stare vacantly into the mid-distance, but Jim wasn't sure that the Augment was tracking anything. Finally, Khan fell into a deep sleep, but it wasn't a peaceful sleep. He kept moving fitfully, now and then making those soft, mewling sounds that Jim had heard from him before, the sounds that made Jim want to hug him close as tightly as he could.

Only he couldn't, because Khan still was so badly hurt. But it did make Jim wonder. Were those sound instinctive? Khan was asleep, he wouldn't be aware he was making them. Maybe their purpose was to keep others from hurting him while he couldn't defend himself? Because how could anyone bear to hurt him when he was making those sounds?

_If that's the point, it's working. On me at least._

Time passed glacially slowly. Jim kept guard as the Augment healed, softly talking to him, whispering reassurances he didn't know whether they were heard. Two hours or so later, the sucking wound in Khan's chest finally closed, and almost immediately, the Augment's color improved dramatically. The stump at his left forearm seemed to be growing, or maybe Jim was just imagining it. But now that he was looking closely, he could see that the shape of the stump had changed. It now had five little bumps at its tip, and Jim didn't need Bones to tell him that those bumps would eventually grow into fingers.

Such a miracle. And so far, as far as Jim knew, almost everyone who had met Khan had tried to use him or kill him for it. No one had ever just appreciated him for the wonder that he was.

There was a knock at the door, shockingly loud after the hours of relative silence. "Senescal," Zyclim's muffled voice said. "Do you need anything?"

At that moment, it became apparent that Khan was not sleeping quite so deeply after all. His eyes opened, looking in the direction the voice had come from, but his expression was one of confusion, and maybe a little fear. "Can't," the Augment whispered. "Forgive me. I can't."

"No, no, no," Jim said, framing his face and inserting himself into Khan's field of vision. "Shh. It's all right, don't worry, that's a friend. It's all right. You don't need to do anything."

"Senescal?" Zyclim said, causing Khan to make a small sound of distress and try to raise his head.

Jim gently held him down, gritting his teeth. "We're fine," he said, keeping his voice as even as he could. "Everything's fine." _Just go away. You're upsetting my Augment._ "We don't need anything."

Khan made another soft sound, and again, it seemed to reach straight into Jim's chest and yank at something soft and tender in there.

Unable to fight it, Jim gathered the healing body close, enveloping it with as much of himself as he could manage, wanting nothing more than to make those sounds stop, whispering reassurances and running his hands over shoulders and back in long, soothing strokes, responding to reach sound with a tightening of his arms, almost helplessly.

Fortunately, Zyclim seemed to have gotten the message, because there were no more interruptions. Khan gradually calmed down as he was able to feel Jim, smell him, hear him close to him. The distressed sounds finally changed to sounds of contentment, soft, deep noises that made Jim want to keep hearing them as much as he had hated the pleading pain sounds.

More time passed. Khan slept, now and then shivering softly. At last, he shifted to find a new position on his side, Jim following him, keeping close. The five buds on the Augment's arm stump were slowly growing into tiny, very pink, glistening fingers, no nails yet, looking translucent and so disturbingly fragile that Jim wanted to wrap both of his hands around them to keep them safe and whole. He didn't, though, for fear of accidentally hurting the delicate tissues that clearly weren't real skin yet.

Meanwhile, Jim's own body was beginning to make its demands known, but Jim had no time for any of it. He'd wait until Khan woke up to be sufficiently coherent to understand that he was safe before he'd dare move away from him.

Zyclim finally made another attempt at offering his help. "Senescal," the Herculean's apologetic voice drifted through the door. "Are you all right?"

This prompted movement in Jim's arms as Khan turned his head towards the sound, dragging his eyes open with visible effort. The look in them was a little more aware now than it had been before, but still miles away from the Augment's usual razor gaze. "Food," Khan rasped. "Need food."

So did Jim, incidentally. "We don't know if we can eat anything here, Noonien," he said softly.

"Doesn't matter. Won't kill me. I'll tell you whether you can eat it." He raised his left arm to his eyes, looking at the stump with its little pink appendages distractedly. "Need food."

Not much Jim could say to object to that, was there. All that new bone and tissue had to come from somewhere, after all. "Zyclim," he said, raising his voice a little, "can you get us some food and water? Nothing fancy. Just -"

"Meat," Khan interjected, eyes closed and hugging his growing hand to his chest. "Milk and eggs, if they have them. But mainly meat."

"Right. Zyclim, are you there?"

"Yes, Senescal," came the muffled voice.

Khan made a sound of annoyance, eyes still closed. "Oh, tell him to come in already."

For some reason, this caused Jim to be inundated by another wave of unexpected affection. Impulsively, he kissed the Augment's forehead. "Yes, my Prince." He raised his head, smiling at Khan's response - a brief twitch of his lips. "You'd better come in, Zyclim."

The bulldog-like Herculean entered, looking around curiously. "Almighty," he said when he saw Khan, who looked much better than he had mere hours ago. Visibly stopping his train of thought, he said, "How can I help you, Senescal?"

_Senescal_ , Jim thought. _This isn't right. This whole situation isn't right._

But this still wasn't the time. "We need food. Meat, milks, eggs. And water."

"Meat," Khan growled into Jim's shoulder.

"Lots of meat," Jim added, unable to suppress a fond smile.

"Certainly," Zyclim said. "Should it be cooked? Raw? Fried? Smoked? Dried? Any meat, or should it be from a specific animal? And the eggs and milk?"

_Good questions,_ Jim thought. The anthropologists hadn't prepared them for that. "Uh, bring a selection, if it's not too much trouble. Nothing fancy, though." _No local equivalent of quails' eggs or frogs' legs, please._

The Herculean nodded. "Anything else?"

"An explanation," Khan said. "But first, food."

 

* * *

 

Jim sat back with a satisfied sigh. The food - pronounced safe by Khan who could apparently identify all the substances in what he ate, even if the food was alien - had been plentiful and ample, and surprisingly tasty. All that was missing was a desert, but he wasn't going to be greedy.

Khan, too, was looking like a sated tiger, eyes half closed, lying on his side, curled around his growing hand. To Jim's experienced eyes, the Augment still wasn't all there yet, obviously still healing. This seemed to require a state of lowered awareness and a constant readiness to sleep, something Jim could remember from his own time of coming back from the dead due to Khan's blood. He had felt like shit, but he had been sleeping so much that he had simply slept through the worst of it, and when awake, he had been so tired that keeping two thoughts strung together had required major effort. If Khan was experiencing only half of that, he had to be really out of it.

Khan, however, was visibly fighting it, as if being sleepy was somehow beneath him.

"Go to sleep, tiger," Jim told him fondly.

"Not before I understand what is going on here," Khan said stubbornly. "Tell Zyclim to come in here and have him explain this planet to us."

Jim grinned. "I'll see what I can do, my Prince." He looked at the Augment thoughtfully. Something had been nagging him for a while. If he waited until Khan was back to a hundred percent, he might never get an answer, so… "But first, I have a question."

"Hmm," Khan said by way of invitation.

"I don't mean to pry, but… Earlier, you said 'don't terminate me'. Where did that come from?"

Khan looked away briefly, long enough for Jim to realize that this was a topic that affected him deeply.

"If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine," he added quickly, already sorry for his tactics and his curiosity.

But Khan readily returned Jim's gaze. The truth, like any opponent or danger, clearly was something to be faced head-on, even now that he was not firing on all thrusters. "I was re-living a memory," he said with that toneless voice that Jim knew masked his strong emotions. "During the Eugenics program, there was a phase of elimination. Those of us who failed to pass certain tests would be terminated. Being incapacitated due to injury was one way to fail. I saw many of my siblings being killed before my eyes because they could not get back on their feet in time."

"My God. How old were you?"

"The elimination cycles began when we were considered old enough to be in full possession of our faculties, at four years of age."

"My God," Jim repeated, unable to think of anything else to say.

Khan reached out his good hand to briefly take Jim's in reassurance. "Don't worry about it, Jim. That was three hundred years ago. I've long since put it behind me. I only remembered it then because the smell in this room reminded me of the labs."

As usual, Jim couldn't smell anything. "What smell?"

"Whitewash paint. Lime and chalk. Very cheap and covers all sorts of stains."

Jim nodded. That made sense. "I'm sorry," he said, "that you have to go through all this, just to get some fucking dilithium that we now may never even end up getting."

"No, Jim." Khan visibly gathered his wits about him even though he looked like he was ready to fall asleep any moment. "I chose to come here. Don't apologize for my decisions. It's me who is sorry that you had to witness me like that. I was made to endure without being distracted by memories of the distant past. That was a weakness that I should not have given in to." He held up his healing hand, slowly curling and uncurling the new fingers. They were still very pink, but had reached their final length and size and were beginning to look less painfully translucent now that the skin was forming at last. Jim noticed that they had even grown nails.

Carefully, Jim captured that hand in both of his, feeling the soft, smooth skin, the slowly hardening bones underneath. "Yeah," he said gently, "I'm really shocked that you're not perfect."

Khan threw him a dark glance from under heavy lids but allowed the new fingers to curl around Jim's. There was almost no strength in them yet. "Don't patronize me. Captain."

"Furthest thing from my mind. Khan."

They looked at each other. _I'm really glad you're alive,_ Jim wanted to say. _I'm even more glad that you came to be, that you weren't terminated when you were four. And I'm ridiculously happy that you should allow me to see you when you're not at your best. That you should allow me to touch you when you need it. And that you should now even allow me to touch your ridiculously fragile newly grown fingers that I have no doubt will be able to crush bone in just a few hours. You damned miracle, you._

Khan made no move to disengage. "We should talk to this Zyclim," he finally said sleepily, reminding Jim of where they were, and why there were here.

"Right." Jim regretfully let go of the heart-breakingly soft hand. If he was going to switch to Captain mode, he couldn't afford to be pulled off-course by thoughts of fragility and protectiveness. "Get some rest. I'll go find him."

"Before you do that, give me the communicator. I don't want you calling the ship in an act of rash impulsivity and end up bleeding out of your ears."

Jim set his face. "Well, I'm keeping it. I don't want you to use it either while you're still hurt."

"It wouldn't harm me."

"Still. I've just seen you stab people with what was left of your arm. I'm not about to -"

"Jim."

"Noonien."

Khan looked at him, but whatever he had been about to say was aborted by a yawn that clearly had broadsided him.

Jim smiled, the warmth of affection in the pit of his stomach almost like a living thing. "I promise I won't use it."

Khan closed his eyes as if unable to keep them open any longer. "Then you may as well give it to me now." He sighed, and fell asleep, fighting it all the way.


	4. Chapter 4

Finding Zyclim was easy - the Herculean had positioned himself in the corridor just beyond the door. When Jim left the room he and Khan were using, Zyclim rose from the stool he had been sitting on, looking at Jim expectantly. "Was the food to your liking?"

"Oh, yes. It was delicious." None of it had been recognizably similar to Earth food, but that hadn't kept it from being delicious.

"Your companion...?"

"Is doing fine. Well, as fine as he can be expected to be." In fact, by the time Jim had left Khan, the Augment had returned to full awareness, regaining his customary control. If he was feeling any residual weakness, Jim hadn't been able to notice it. "Um. If you'd care to join us for a few minutes, there's some things we'd like to clear up."

Zyclim nodded. "Certainly. That is your right, after the way we've treated you. But maybe it can wait - I have sent for Deucal Drabtur, who can give you all the answers you need. He is expected to arrive tonight."

For some reason, Jim was feeling reluctant to deal with yet another Deucal. "He can fill in whatever needs to be filled in later, but we'd really like to talk to you now."

"Very well." The bulldog-like Herculean squared his shoulders. "I shall do my best, then."

When they entered the room, Khan was sitting cross-legged on the cot, with his chest still bare and his half dozen wounds, most of them faded to pink scars, exposed to sight, looking at Zyclim with nearly all of his considerable focus and intensity. More strikingly, he held his hands in front of him, elbows resting on his knees, his right hand encasing his newly regrown left.

Zyclim stopped, and stared.

Jim couldn't blame him. When the Herculean had last seen Khan, that left hand had been nothing but a bleeding stump, not to mention the fact that Khan had been speared clean through. Zyclim had had every reason to expect him to be dead, or at the very least close to death's door.

"Sit," Khan ordered, unmoved by the evident wonder.

Zyclim closed his mouth, looked around, and, in the absence of any other furniture besides the cot, sat down on the floor, with alacrity.

 _Shades of a former emperor_ , Jim thought, amused and a little impressed (and a little turned on, if he was honest). He couldn't blame the Augment for his arrogant demeanor. After the way Khan had been treated, it was only natural that he would want to reassert his authority and his natural superiority.

Jim, too, sat down, but he chose the other end of the cot, next to Khan.

"Now, talk," the Augment went on. "Explain."

"Certainly," Zyclim said, struggling to tear his eyes away from the new hand. "But first, let me apologize on behalf of the Deucality. None of this was supposed to happen -"

"I will consider your apology after you have explained your purpose," Khan interrupted him, still in full-on sovereign mode, managing to look as imposing half naked as if he were wearing full regalia. "Start at the beginning."

Jim easily suppressed a nascent impulse to take charge of this conversation, content to let the Augment have his moment. Besides, this was the first time he was witnessing Khan truly being a Khan, someone he could believe had been a ruler with power over millions of subjects, and he wanted to see more of it.

"At the beginning, yes." Zyclim gathered his thoughts, never once questioning that Khan was now the one giving the orders rather than 'Senescal' Kirk. "More than a hundred years ago, a spaceship fell out of the sky. Back then, we thought it was a falling star. Well, I say 'we', but that was the time of my grandfather; my father had not even been born yet. My people soon found out that the falling star was man-made, and that there were alien people in it. Most of them were dead due to the crash, only one was still alive. Thinking he might be a fallen angel, my people brought him into the nearest town and helped him heal."

"This being is not alive anymore, then?" Khan asked.

"No," Zyclim said, face regretful. "Ben Everett lived for almost a year, but he never fully recovered from his injuries. During that year, he told my people things. He said that he and his friends had come for the rocks in our earth, that there were more people like him, that the stars were suns with planets like ours, that there were people like us living on some of them, and that there was an empire of united planets that he had come from. He said he came from a planet called Earth. He also told us of ways to make our lives easier, of harnessing the lightning and the sunlight, of making better metals, of healing wounds and keeping things clean and making food last longer. We learned so much. We left many of our old ways behind. Crops have never been so plentiful. Women no longer die in childbirth."

"Well," Jim commented, "so much for the Prime Directive."

Khan threw him a look, eyebrows raised in agreement, before turning back to Zyclim. "Where is the ship this Ben Everett came in now?"

"In Deucal Drabtur's lands," Zyclim said. "By now, there is almost nothing of it left. We have studied it intensely, first with his supervision, then on our own. We have learned to use the machines that were in it, and to build others like them. Now, there is nothing more for us to learn. We want to learn more. That is why the Deucality made the Plan." Jim could practically hear the capital P.

"Go on," Khan ordered.

"Ben Everett had told us that others would seek out our dilithium, like he had. He had told us that there were also bad, greedy people out there, on other worlds. He said that he had been one of those greedy people, before his ship crashed. He had come to our world on his own behalf, not on any government's orders. He had wanted to take the dilithium without paying for it, to get rich. We do not want our world to be conquered because of greed, so the Deucality decided to put any visitors to a test."

Jim nodded, remembering Zyclim mentioning a test.

"We built this town, making it look like our towns had a hundred years ago, before Ben Everett came. People were chosen to live in it in the old way, while the rest of our people live in an area that is cloaked. Deucal Acheron was chosen to conduct the tests. And when we saw the moving star in our sky last month, we knew that the moment was near."

"The recon drone," Jim said, nodding again. "So, what tests are you talking about?"

"We would pose as the primitive people we had been and see what our visitors would do. How much would you be willing to pay for our dilithium? Would you compromise your honor, your morals? Would you try to just take everything by force? If greed was your motivation, or if you attacked us, thinking we were no threat, we would send you away, or do whatever was necessary to make you leave. Acheron posed as an enemy to one of our own, as an incentive for you to take a side and to interfere."

"But Acheron was overcome by his own brand of greed," Khan said.

Zyclim nodded, looking unhappily at the Augment. "He saw you fight, and he never was the same since. Then he saw you heal, and he was gone completely. He wanted you then the way we had expected you to want the dilithium. The Deucality had not foreseen this. Please. You must believe that we never intended to hurt you. That was Acheron acting on his own."

Khan returned the Herculean's gaze unblinking, unmoving. Jim, who knew the Augment rather well by now, could see his nostrils flare, and he knew that Khan was taking Zyclim's scent in an effort to find out whether the man was telling the truth.

But instead of making a pronouncement one way or another, Khan frowned. "That is not the whole truth, though. You are still concealing something from us."

For a moment, Zyclim returned Khan's look with an expression of unrelenting stubbornness, but then he seemed to wilt. "It is impossible to deceive you, it seems. You are right. What you are seeing is not what we are, precisely."

"Show us," Khan said, leaning forward.

Zyclim, still looking less than pleased, did not move.

But something did move. The Herculean's features seemed to shift. His eyes drifted apart, grew bigger. His nose retracted. His ears disappeared. His whole body seemed to shrink. It took several minutes, and when the transformation was completed, he (or it, it was impossible to tell) looked still humanoid but thoroughly alien at the same time.

"Why this masquerade?" Khan growled.

Jim, with his familiarity with the Augment's psychological makeup, realized that Khan was taken aback by this development and trying not to show it. _Gotta remember that he's only lived in this time for two years or so. He spent most of his life unaware that aliens even exist._

"It was not done out of malice," Zyclim said quickly. Even his voice sounded different. "We do it as a courtesy. There are many races of my people on this planet, with wildly different sizes and shapes. When we travel, it is considered polite for the host to assume the shape of the visitor. You are visitors to our world, so…."

Khan nodded. "I see."

"In fact," Zyclim went on, regarding the Augment's stony face warily, "many of us permanently assume the shape of Ben Everett, our first off-world visitor, to honor him. Truly, it never was our intention to deceive you." While he spoke, he slowly morphed back into the shape they had first met him in. Jim found its grumpy bulldog look immensely comforting.

"I see," Khan said again. "That is his face, I assume?"

"Yes," Zyclim said, sounding proud. "I have worn it ever since I learned about him when I was young. I never thought to take any other."

"So," Khan said, "this town and all the buildings in it are a scene setting, deliberately chosen to convey an image of primitive helplessness in order to set a bait, to incite more advanced people to try and annex you. What would you have done if we had come here and did just that, like you feared? And like certain species might still do?"

"We are to check in with the Deucality regularly. If we fail to do so, the cloaking around our real settlements would be removed and my people would launch an attack. We do not yet have a space fleet, but we would still be able to put up considerable resistance within the atmosphere of our world. It was a risk, but the Deucality decided to take it."

"And the dilithium?" Jim interjected, remembering his mission objective. "It exists, right? We can still negotiate for it?"

Zyclim smiled. "Oh yes. The price for it will be information. The Deucality as a whole - well, minus Deucal Acheron now, obviously - will discuss the details with you. _Senescal_." The slight emphasis on Jim's assumed title was obvious.

"Oh, yeah," Jim said, grinning his patented first-contact grin. "I'm not really a Senescal. I'm Captain James T. Kirk of the starship U.S.S. Enterprise. This is Khan Noonien Singh, my consultant."

"I am honored," Zyclim said, inclining his head. "My name is Zyclim of Freymoor. I'm an engineer and advisor to the Senescal of Iodramelan, which is the name of this land. But I am sure you knew this."

Jim dimly remembered the ship's anthropologists mentioning that word, so he nodded.

"Forgive me," Zyclim went on, "but are you both humans from Earth? You look similar to Ben Everett, yet he never regained the use of his legs, while you, Consultant Khan Noonien Singh, have actually regrown an entire limb. We did not think that this was possible, and in so short a time, too."

Jim looked at Khan, ready to interfere in case the Augment showed any sign of discomfort with this subject. Besides, his own gut instinct was not to answer the question. From what Zyclim had told them, the Herculeans - or whatever their name for themselves was - possessed remarkable adaptability. Jim didn't figure that it would be a good idea to introduce them to the concept of genetic engineering, considering the disastrous effect it had had on Earth. On the other hand, Pandora's box was already open, so who would they be to keep the Herculeans from making their own mistakes?

Khan, meanwhile, merely raised his brows. "Is this information part of the price we pay for the dilithium?" he countered, voice toneless. Jim thought he could hear his reluctance in the very fact that he was keeping his emotions from showing in his voice.

Zyclim smiled. "I do not know what questions the Deucality will ask. It may be. For now, it is merely my own curiosity that made me ask. Anything you choose to tell me will not leave this room."

"You don't have to tell him anything if you don't want to, Noonien," Jim said quickly.

Khan threw him a look. "I'm aware of that." _Don't coddle me._ Jim could hear it as clearly as if the Augment had said it aloud. "To satisfy your curiosity," he added, turning back to Zyclim, "we are indeed both from Earth, but I represent another species of human. I am different from both Ben Everett and from Captain Kirk."

"I see," Zyclim said, even though he clearly wasn't satisfied with that response. "But that is not all."

Khan canted his head to one side. "I will tell you more if you answer one question first."

"Certainly. What is it?"

"Can you read minds?"

Zyclim raised both brows at this. "No. We cannot read minds."

Khan growled. "Don't lie to me. You know too much about us, even allowing for whatever this Everett may have told you a hundred years ago."

"We cannot read minds in the sense that we cannot hear your thoughts," Zyclim said quickly. "We only receive impressions, feelings; sometimes, images."

"So," Jim interjected with a placating glance at Khan, "you're empathic rather than telepathic."

"Exactly." The Herculean, too, was regarding Khan warily. "I can hear that you are very angry right now, Consultant Khan. Your mind is quite loud, compared to Captain Kirk's."

Taking a deep breath, Khan visibly reined himself in. "Well, don't lie to me, then. I knew as soon as Achigon put me to the test that some sort of extrasensory perception had to be involved. Denying it served no purpose."

"Agreed, and I apologize. I was merely trying to-"

"You were splitting hairs," Khan interrupted him. "To be fair, I was obfuscating the truth, so let's call it even and speak of it no more."

Zyclim smiled in agreement.

"To fully answer your question," Khan said with a significant glance at Jim - _stay out of this_ \- "I am the result of genetic manipulation. All my genes originate from Earth, but some of them are not human. This," he held up his regrown hand, "is only possible because there are species on Earth that can regenerate limbs, and I possess this ability because my genome was altered to contain their genes. I was made to be better than normal humans."

Zyclim was frowning. "Genes... genome... You speak of things of which we have no concept. Would you be willing to teach our philosophers?"

Khan lowered his head. "No," he said with finality. "Nothing good would come of it. Earth was subjected to a terrible war because of it. You are, of course, free to do your own research, but you will learn nothing from me. Not even in exchange for the dilithium."

Zylim's eyes were shining. "I quite understand. It is enough to know that this knowledge is out there. We will find it on our own, eventually."

 

* * *

 

_48 hours later_

 

The treaty was signed. The dilithium was theirs for the taking. All in the all, the mission was a complete success, with no losses on their side, and no injuries to the landing party. Which, for the purposes of Jim's report, had consisted solely of Jim Kirk.

No one would ever learn of the sacrifices Khan had made on behalf of the Federation. There would be no commendation for the services the Augment had rendered, for the pain he had endured, or for the diplomatic efforts he had later made to secure the treaty.

It wasn't fair.

But them, as Bones would surely remind Jim, were the breaks. After all, that had been the deal - Khan's presence aboard the Enterprise could not become common knowledge while Section 31 was still active.

It didn't help. The fact remained that Jim hadn't seen Khan for longer than he was comfortable with. As soon has they had beamed back aboard the Enterprise, the Augment had disappeared, even evading Bones' post-mission checkup, and Jim had deliberately not tried to find out where he was.

If Khan was not comfortable revealing his whereabouts, Jim would not force him. Not after what had happened - again. How often would Khan be subjected to what essentially amounted to deliberate torture, just because of what he was? How often could Jim tell him that he was safe, only to be proven wrong? How often could Khan go through something like this before he would lose faith in all living beings, Jim Kirk included? How long before he would really turn into the killing machine so many suspected him to be?

They had come so far. Khan had gone from being a haunted fugitive to someone comfortable enough to sleep in Jim's arms, to move among the crew without his constant vigilance in evidence, even to subject everyone to his peculiar brand of humor. And now, again, something had happened to shake Khan's trust, to remind him that he was different, that Section 31 weren't the only ones who would hunt him down for what he was.

And here Jim was, still trying to prove to him that humanity had evolved, that there was a place among them even for an artificially created being who had gone against his purpose. What if that was all down to Jim's selfishness, to the fact that he simply didn't want to let Khan go, even if maybe, possibly, being out there in space alone would be safer for the Augment?

Jim's musings were interrupted by the door buzzer. "Captain," Khan's voice came.

Relieved, Jim opened the door, to find the Augment motionless in front of it, looking at Jim levelly, almost… timidly?

"Come in, Noonien," Jim said, looking him over. He seemed calm, composed, healthy, nothing out of the ordinary, and yet…. The impulse to ask him where he had been was strong, but Jim resisted. He was not going to keep tabs on him, not even after the fact.

Khan stepped into the room far enough to allow the door to close behind him, looking around briefly before focusing on Jim. "Am I interrupting?"

"Nope, not doing anything." Jim peered up at him from his seated position. "Are you okay?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" The Augment's voice was toneless, which told Jim more than anything that he was concealing his feelings from scrutiny.

Jim nodded towards the chair opposite his. "Because," he said with deliberate emphasis, "you've had a bit of a hard time back on that planet. Because it wasn't the first time. And because you're not indestructible, despite what you'd like everyone to think. And because you're looking a little bit like you need a hug." Which, Jim considered, just a few months ago would not have been something he'd ever thought he'd say to Khan.

Khan stayed where he was, raising his brows at Jim.

Jim raised his right back.

To Jim's surprise, Khan looked away. "You're beginning to know me disconcertingly well," he said softly, raising one hand to touch his chest. "I've found that some wounds take longer to heal than others, especially when one is not sleeping. It's been almost three days. I should be back to a hundred percent by now. But I'm not. It annoys me."

Jim latched onto the first thing that had caught his attention. "If you're not sleeping, why didn't you come to me?"

There was a pause. "I would like to say that I didn't want to impose, because you were busy, but that wouldn't be the truth. I… felt like I wouldn't be welcome, after the way I behaved on the planet."

Now, Jim was lost. "What? Why? Why wouldn't you be welcome?" He nodded at the chair, again. "And please, sit down. I'm getting a crink in my neck looking up at you."

After a moment, Khan sat, steepling his hands in front of himself. Jim briefly looked at the left one, finding it no different than the other one. Fully regrown, and fully functional.

"You made it clear, repeatedly, that the habits of my former life back on Earth three hundred years ago are cause for concern," Khan said, voice still toneless. "Leonard misses no opportunity to tease me about it, which only thinly veils his true feelings. I expect that everyone aboard this ship, yourself included, still harbors some small fear that I might revert to my former mindset at any minute and, well, take over this vessel or something. Whether you are aware of it or not," he added when Jim opened his mouth to protest. "The truth is that I never changed. My mindset has not changed since then. I am still the man who ruled over a quarter of Earth. There is nothing that I can revert to. I'm not a wild animal that was somehow tamed. I am as untamed as I ever was."

Again, Jim opened his mouth, but closed it again, lost for words. Waiting.

Khan went on, "Deucal Acheron was aware of that. That was what he tempted me with. And he was right. Back on that planet, I was able, however briefly and minutely, to act on the things I cannot normally allow myself to experience anymore - fighting to the limit, being in command, leading negotiations. And I can't deny that it felt good. You're an observant man, so you very likely noticed. Therefore, I fear that you will now reject me. That's why I kept away."

 _Oh_ , Jim thought. _Seems I was wrong. He wasn't in hiding because he felt threatened. He was in hiding because he thought I was feeling threatened._

He couldn't help it - he grinned. "Oh God," he said, still grinning. "We're quite a pair."

Khan frowned. "You mean I was wrong?"

"I mean we were both wrong. I thought you had holed up to lick your wounds because you've been hurt yet again because of what you are. I was afraid you'd eventually end up never trusting anyone ever again."

Now, Khan was looking at him as though he had grown a third eye. "None of the things that happened were your fault, Jim. Besides, it would mean that you lied to me when you said I could trust you. I know you didn't lie to me."

"Right. I also am not rejecting you. On the contrary, I thought you acting all princely back on the planet was really hot. If you can tell that I didn't lie to you about that other thing, then you can also tell I'm not lying now."

The Augment looked at him, nostrils flaring.

Jim's relief made him a little reckless, and a little silly. He tilted his head back, exposing his neck. "If you can't tell from all the way over there, by all means, feel free to zoom in."

That was all the encouragement Khan needed. With two steps, he was out of his chair, arms wrapping around Jim, lifting him bodily out of his chair and carrying him towards the bed.

Giggling, Jim held on, letting his head fall back and feeling Khan's nose pressing against his skin there. Then, they were on the bed, and Jim found himself enveloped by arms and legs that were five times stronger than the strongest human's as Khan's head found its familiar place in the crook of Jim's neck.

"Can you smell how afraid of you I'm not?" Jim asked softly, wriggling to find a comfortable position.

"Hmmm," Khan said, settling down and nudging Jim with his nose in a wordless demand to be caressed.

Jim gladly obliged, running his hand up and down the Augment's back, delighting in the feel of solid bone and toned muscles beneath his fingers. It felt good, safe, familiar by now - and had been sorely missed. "How's your chest?" he asked after a while, remembering Khan's words about not yet being a hundred percent.

"Still stings when I exert myself," Khan said indistinctly into Jim's neck.

Jim anchored one hand in  Khan's hair, feeling the cool strands between his fingers, the warm skin underneath. HIs other hand gently covered the spot on the Augment's back where the spear had penetrated him. "Then don't."

He was rewarded by a snort. "I can smell how much you do not wish me to exert myself."

As always, Jim refused to be embarrassed. So he was a horny bastard, so what? Besides, he'd dare anyone to hold Khan in his - or her - arms without being turned on. "Yeah, well, I still don't want you to do anything about it."

"Hmm," Khan replied, briefly tightening his hold around Jim. After a pause, he said softly, "I thank you for your patience with me."

Jim nodded. "Same here."

"Also, I apologize for my obtuseness."

"Likewise."

"And lastly, I would ask something of you."

Jim dragged his eyes open. He could not remember having closed them. "Shoot."

"Let me stay here with you. For a few hours."

At that, Jim framed Khan's face with his hands and waited until the Augment was looking at him. "You're always welcome in here, to stay for however long you want. I hope you know that."

"I meant, in your bed."

"So did I."

"To sleep."

"To do whatever you want."

Khan's lips twitched. "Eat cookies? Pillow fights? Play chess?"

Jim considered that he wasn't the only one in this bed feeling silly. "Sure, why not."

Khan closed his eyes. "Well, for now, I really just want to sleep. I found myself missing your smell."

Abruptly, Jim felt his eyes sting. "You stupid idiot, you could have come here anytime."

"No one has ever called me an idiot before."

"… And lived?"

Jim watched Khan's improbable lips stretch into a smile. "I wasn't in the habit of executing my subjects because of mere words, no. No one did because no one dared."

Jim hugged him close. "Well, I dare. I also dare to tell you to shut up now and sleep." A questing hand found a blanket, and a little wriggling brought it in position draped over the two of them. "If you really haven't slept since before Zeta Herculis IV, then you must be tired. Yes, even you. So, shut up and go to sleep."

To Jim's surprise, Khan did shut up. Apparently, Augments didn't feel the urge to have the last word.

Jim held him, feeling him relax by increments, until finally, Khan's breath evened out and his lids began to twitch with his dreams. Jim went as still as he could, keeping his own breathing calm and even, letting him have his rest, reveling in feeling the weight of the Augment's head on his shoulder, the small gusts of breath against his neck, the smell of his hair. In the knowledge that, after all that had happened, Khan still felt safe in Jim's arms.

Wriggling his toes, Jim realized that they were both fully dressed, including their boots. It didn't matter. What mattered was that they were here, together, still together after all that fate had thrown at them. Maybe there was reason to hope that they'd be together for a while longer.

Jim would have to ask Spock about the odds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, that took a while to finish, lol. I hope it didn't end up being too fluffy.
> 
> Sorry for the lack of smut. I'll make up for that in the next part. :-)


End file.
